"J" is for Joup Jumplings at Joe's Shanghai!

Around 7:30, a group of seven zupperites huddled in a small alley off Bowery, fidgeting and mouths watering as we waited in anticipation of sinking our teeth into the famous soup dumplings from Joe's Shanghai. Thanks to our seasoned vet, Butter My Rollman, we were amply prepared for the great (and often dangerous) art of eating soup dumplings. We graciously perused the menu out of habit, but we already had a shortlist of desired items in our minds. Rollman & Sweeney took initiative and ordered the night's spread. Within a few minutes, cold TsingTaos and three baskets of dumplings were planted at center table.


We began by pouring a small amount of the table "soy" sauce mixed with a sriracha-like sauce that looked like it was studded with red pepper flakes. After several jokes related to men's "tonsils" and such, we dug in. Obeying Rollman's direction, we each slowly nibbled on the outside of the tender pork dumpling, letting a bit of the hot steam escape. After another small nibble or two, we began sucking out the soup. Just the broth alone packs a ton of shanghai flavor (mmm... salty! mmm... porky!) With one bite, there was an explosion of juicy, ground pork with the lingering taste of tender dumpling dough. Good thing I was wearing my napkin as a bib - the small explosion of flavor went dribbling down the sides of my spoon on more than one occasion. The third basket was filled with crab and pork (and the same dribbling smiles from the crowd, although I do think the pork were the best).

Just as our smiles faded with the last trace of dumpling, we were brought new rounds of TsingTao and steaming plates of meat, vegetables and shanghai noodles. Had we not dug in like animals, we might have noticed that two of the dishes didn't resemble what we ordered (or what we thought we ordered). The General Tso's chicken and vegetables and beef with string beans were the crowd pleasers, while the crispy chicken (which wasn't so crispy) and the noodles (which weren't the little flat ones we were seeking) were still tasty, but didn't really wow. But hey, they had a tough act to follow. It wasn't really their fault.

All in all, a culinary feast and success. As we relaxed, fat and happy, we recalled the past 10 months of fine New York dining and toasted making it to "J" night. We've had babies, marriages, new jobs and new members (a special welcome to newest member Tenny Pearson!). I'm feeling a bit nostalgic (perhaps I'm still giddy from my love affair with the dumplings last night) and extremely proud of our little club. Now, forge on zupperites! We've got some "K" eatin' to do.

"I" is for Il Vagabondo

"I" is also for "I barely remember all the details so we'll just stick to some key memories of the night in this entry". We surprisingly found Il Vagabondo tucked in-between two brownstones on the UES. When I heard that the restaurant had bocce courts, I just assumed Covitz was a zupperite rookie (this being his first pick) and it would be some sprawling dining hall with mediocre red sauced pastas. But, I was wrong. LIttle did I know the place has been around for 40 years and has a dedicated crew of regulars. We walked in and shared cold Peronis at a classic, long wooden bar. We were then brought to one of the back rooms (we were in the smaller one), squeezed around a red checked tablecloth, and shared some precious moments:

- Alison contemplates the seafood pasta and decides to interrogate the waiter on what kind of seafood is actually in the pasta. To which his lengthy reply was "Errr... Uhhh.... Ehhh....Oooh...I'm not really sure". (Quick! Name something that swims in the sea! A seafood dish typically eaten by human beings! Just make it up for goodness sake!) She makes a bold move and orders it anyway, and ends up quite enjoying the mystery-seafood-meat selection.
- Alison shares the sad news that Dave is moving to Austin, but not to fret because she already has dates lined up on sugardaddie.com and gothicmatch.com
- We learned about Phil's special relationship with his cat, and what a sweet little thing she is. Andrea shares how Phil's cat is nasty and mean, and something about liking to sit on people's faces. Hmmm.
- Mike ordered the veal parmesan special and by the looks of his clean, shiny white plate, he enjoyed it throroughly. The meat was pounded super thin, but still very tender (and as Mike would say "I'd eat toe smothered in that sauce")
- Jane watched Mike eat and silently wondered to herself if she was about to marry someone who was "letting himself go"

And alas, we were wussies and didn't end up playing bocce. But, if you're looking for a low-key Italian place, a good game of bocce or just a classic New York experience, take a trip to Il Vagabondo. NB: Maybe even check out the room to the right where it has a larger, more livelier room and a view of the kitchen.